


Whispers of Time

by GateBreaker



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dragons, Gen, Help, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, POV Bran Stark, Prophetic Dreams, The Long Night, The Night's Watch (ASoIaF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GateBreaker/pseuds/GateBreaker
Summary: Bran dreams. And he sees.





	Whispers of Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I did for school. I had to chose a word (in my case, "dream") and base a short story on it. One of the requirements was repetition, as well. That's why it repeats the same type of sentence throughout the fic.  
> This is my first time posting something and my first ASoIaF story. English is not my first language so if something sounds wrong or there's an error, please inform me so I can correct it.  
> I hope you like it :)

Bran likes the stories Old Nan tells them. Not the strange stories. Like the ones about the blue sky in a giant’s eye. But the stories of knights and heroes, of strength and valour and the victory of armies and warriors over the battlefield.

But most of all, Bran likes the scary stories.

The frightening stories. Of men turned beasts. Of dark nights and cold winds. The myths and legends of old, that prevailed through the changing tides of time and spread far and wide through the lands. Stories of the monsters that lurked just beyond the Wall. And the harsh winter that comes with it. Of ice and snow and a night so long it lasted years. And how it took and it took and it _took_.

Bran admits his fondness to this kind of tales to Old Nan. She calls him summer child and ignorant to true fear, the kind of horror that settles beneath the skin and the dread that burrows deep inside bones and stays and grows and shifts.

But Bran dreams, and sees all of this. He sees a forest swallowed by the cold. The building blocks of a wall that threatens to reach the skies. He sees treaties and betrayal, alliances and deceit. Towns built and cities raised. Castles forged and destroyed. He sees wars and fire and blood. He sees mad kings and the choking smoke of a fire. Sees a dragon killed by a stag. Sees blood flowing in rivers and fire burning across the land. Hears the first cries of a babe and the screams of mother gone. Hears _“Promise me, Ned”_ and the anguish of a brother.

Bran sees all of this and needs to know more.

And so, Bran dreams.

He dreams of flying and falling, of howling winds and useless limbs. Of three eyed ravens and forest children and a man that is a tree.

He dreams of wolves larger than his father’s horses, and dragons that swallow whole cities in shadows.

He dreams of dancing dragons and a crown of thorns. Of smoke and fire, of a fallen wall and the fear for something he does not know.

Bran dreams of cold eyes and frozen touch. Of fighting and screaming and the cries of the fallen that rise as if merely puppets caught by strings.

He dreams of death walking through planes of snow, despair and decay succeeding its every step. Sees fire and blood and tainted white.

Bran dreams of love and joy, but also pain and grief and loss and heartache. Alliances forged by war and treachery by the chance at glory and acceptance and the feeling of righteousness. Dreams of steel through the heart and the two who fall. Sees only one rise again.

He dreams of brothers lost and a family divided.

He dreams of a boy no older than Bran give his life to reach new hope. He dreams of the sacrifice of an old friend and of a girl that protects him.

Bran dreams of the loss of a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a son, a daughter…

He dreams of the darkness that threatens to swallow him whole and the monster that it brings.

Bran dreams and dreams and dreams and _dreams_.

He dreams of open fields and the birth of new life. Of the end of winter and a hope of spring. He dreams of family and pack and home. He dreams of happiness and contentment and a bittersweet ending.

He dreams of the end of an era and the rise of something more. Of unity born of ice and fire. And a song that will resound through time itself.

And so, Bran dreams.

And he _sees_.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it and if there's something you think I should change or add to it, please tell it on a review. I don't think I'll ever feel like this is complete.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
